by Gary Beller
“What exactly are you doing, Gunny?” Grimes asked.
“Ninja shit. Watch and learn.”
Kevin stuffed the two flash bangs in his cargo pockets, then quietly slid into the warm water. His head popped up twice before he emerged on the other side, just below the cliff face. A flash bang went off south of him before he disappeared. “Evans,” Erica asked, “Where is he?”
Evans passed his rifle over, and Erica saw Bielema scaling up the cliff face, the snipers were searching frantically along the opposite river bank, unaware of what was coming from below. Erica saw Kevin’s arm swing out, tossing the flash bang over the top of the cliff and landing right next to the sniper. Bielema was now hanging just below them, and when the flash bang went off he dropped ten meters into the water and swam frantically back for shore. The sniper stood up and held up his rifle, then radioed on their frequency, “Scorpio 1-1 and Scorpio 1-2 KIA, grenade kills. Fuckin’ Bee you’re an asshole.”
The team regrouped and moved forward. “Love ya Kate.” Kevin said.
“Gunny…that was fucking nuts.” One of the sergeants said, in awe as he handed him back his gear.
“Welcome to Special Missions. Crazy, stupid, and just fucking insane is what we do. Every member of a Special Missions Unit team should be willing and able to do what I just did.”
“You went alone,” Grimes said, reminding him of his earlier rule.
“Not so, Captain. I had Erica covering to the south and you covering to the north. Let’s keep moving.”
The next few miles were uneventful, but treacherous. There was no glow from the camp fires as they approached. “Okay…Options?”
“Radio for the gunships, and as soon as they make their runs we attack.” Captain Torres said.
“Gunships will be heard a ways off. Might even hear them taking off.” D. J. said.
“Call ‘em in.” Grimes said, “Let them think there is an airstrike inbound. While they’re looking up, we encircle the camp and cover them with fire.”
“If they launch their gunship…” Torres said,
“It’ll be a sitting duck. If it was running on hot stand by we’d hear it. It’s quiet.” Erica said.
Kevin nodded. “Call in the big guns.”
“Gunship Control, Sierra Tango Actual, requesting fire support on enemy encampment just forward our position.”
“Sierra Tango Actual, Gunships inbound. ETA four minutes.”
The sound of the gunships powering up could be heard over the woods as the team fanned out and sighted in. there was movement in the camp, lots of it. “Once the gunships fire, we fire.” Grimes ordered.
The gunships rumbled overhead, filling the air with low-powered particle beams and paint-filled training rockets. The enemy gunship powered up, but was silenced in short order. From the woods, the Marines began firing rapidly and advancing. They were heavily outnumbered, but the strafing runs from gunships managed to even the odds. Two trails of smoke went up from the camp, splattering paint over one of the gunships.
“Gunship 2 is hit, returning to base.”
“Push forward!” Grimes yelled, leading the way. Captains Torres, Goldshteyn, and Rhymes behind him. Everyone kept moving, kept shooting. Colonel Pierce popped up and fired with his pistol, gunning down Goldshteyn and Rhymes, drawing fire from several others. Ben himself was hit by about a dozen shots and sat down, smiling. Sergeant Roberts was proned out from inside his tent, almost unnoticed…until his weapon came alive. The rapid fire support weapon quickly eliminated Evans, Wilkenson, and five more. The tent around him took numerous hits, but the threat he posed continued.
Roberts crawled forward, took a knee, and fired again, pushing back Erica’s portion of the advancing line and regrouping to cover Corpsmen Mason and Adams as they worked on simulated casualties. Heavy Gunners from 2 SMU came in and added their weight of fire.
Eventually, the assault by the trainees was beaten back, but they did well. Colonel Pierce called both Special Missions teams together and the trainees. The four casualties from earlier had also regrouped.
“Trainees, that was impressive. Kevin, I think you owe Kate and Gene a drink for blinding and deafening them tonight, but other than that I am impressed. Tonight was your final exam. For now, we’re all going to board a jumper, head back to base and get some sleep. Tomorrow morning, Gunnery Sergeant Bielema and Staff Sergeants Smith and Martinez will make their recommendations to me, and I will inform you personally if you’ve made the team by afternoon.” Ben said.
A jumper set down behind the camp, and everyone boarded it. The trainees were in awe of the Special Missions Marines. Kevin sat up front with Ben and gave him all the details.
The next morning, in the auditorium assigned to 1SMU for briefings. Bielema, Smith, and Martinez all gave their reports to the team, and their recommendations. Universally, all three recommended Captain Robert Grimes. Also selected was Staff Sergeant Evan Mayhew, a skilled operator with EOD experience; Sergeant Troy Evans, a skilled sharpshooter who had carried the one rifle with a thermal scope the night before, and Sergeant Timothy Wilkenson. Although he started shaky, nearly forgetting his weapons, he recovered and performed admirably under fire.
Ben made the announcement that afternoon, and after conducting individual entry interviews, introduced the new operators to the team.
“Now we are at full strength, 4 days ahead of schedule. Colonel Marye and the Hardfighters have something big planned for us, so keep your ears opened. But on the bright side, it’s Friday, and I am giving you all a well-earned weekend liberty. Stay on base, though.”
Chapter 11
Friday night at the O and E club was busy, but the now-finally full strength 1SMU gathered for drinks and to welcome the new team members. An hour into the event, Brigadier General Hardfighter appeared. He shook the hands of the new recruits, then pulled Ben upstairs. Overlooking the main lounge area was a small private room. Three of the walls had a dark, local wood finish, and it was furnished with large leather chairs. The room was known as Capone’s Lounge, because the three primary occupants of it were all from Chicago, and in that room many a hit was planned.
Ben found himself sitting with both Hardfighter brothers, Major Generals Allie Grant and Izzy Hale, Brigadier General Westover, and Colonel Jessica Marye. “So, what’s up?” Ben asked as Kay Jay arrived. She sat on a couch next to Jessica Marye, close but not too close, same as Westover and Hale.
“We’re going to be moving things around a bit,” Praxis said. “I am releasing a detachment from here, under Danny’s command, to establish a new forward operating base on or near the front lines. With Danny will be both Special Missions Units, Danny’s own Delta Squadron, along with 1st Raider Battalion and two squadrons of Jumpers. I have three ships available to support your operations, as well: Atlantis and Teufelhund, as well as the Heavy Cruiser Chancellorsville that I borrowed from Admiral Sammy Beech. While you Ninjas go do your thing on the front lines, we’ll actually be causing a lot of trouble elsewhere.”
Praxis paused a moment, and light a cigar. He puffed a big smoke ring, which was quickly sucked away by the air purification system. “General Hale is going to take her division and start planet hopping, trying to push back the enemy along the front spin ward and slightly core ward of where we’re sending Danny’s team. General Grant will take her division and do the same in the opposite direction. These moves will be supported by task forces from Admiral Beech’s 7th Fleet.” Praxis paused again, “Meanwhile, the 1st Army is packing up and leaving Koliath, at least temporarily. While 1st and 2nd Marine Divisions are planet hopping, General Kohler is taking his Army and swinging it right down the middle, and three of his five Corps’ are going to hit major enemy targets well past the front. The other two Corps’ will be used in support of our Divisions.”
“We’ll have support from a full Army Corps?” Allie Grant asked.
“Not so much direct support, but relief. Our divisions make planet fall, establish a solid beachhead, then the
Army Corps comes in, briefly reinforces you to make a concerted push to gain positive control. Then the process is repeated. If the fighting on one world gets bogged down, we don’t end up with a situation like we had here on Koliath.” Praxis said.
Taking the planet Koliath was supposed to be a quick action: the 50,000 or so Marines under Praxis’ command should have been able to sweep away enemy resistance within two weeks. If, that is, the intelligence had been right. Koliath wasn’t home to a Corps of Banor troops, it was home to an entire Army Group. Although the Marines made the best of it, and were reinforced with Koliath Militia troops, it took more than a month of ugly fighting for the Coalition Army to finally get around to sending in the First Army to support the Marines. The battle lasted another five months after that before the planet was cleared, but had resulted in three permanent coalition military bases being established near the front lines: Starbase Leatherneck for the Marines, and for the Army Fort MacArthur and Fort Odierno. Now, for the time being, all three bases would be left relatively empty.
“So, what, exactly, are we supposed to do?” Danny asked his brother.
Praxis smiled. “Your usual assortment of ninja shit. Look, these movements are just in our sector of the battle space alone. And we’re talking about a total of 300,000 troops, 400 warships, and hundreds of transports, thousands of fighters and bombers. I talked to Commandant Williams yesterday, and he said he’s got all six of his active field Corps’ getting ready to move, and move aggressively. I am assuming the Army is doing the same with their field Armies, and the Navy with their fleets. This is our first major offensive in six months. There’s also reports the Valderans are mobilizing several million troops and several thousand ships for a similar operation along their front.”
“So we’re swinging hard…what happens if the Banor just say ‘Fuck you’ and move past our advancing troops on this little excursion of ours? Planets that have relied on having regular military presences like this one will be left with few ships, and no Coalition ground troops to defend them.” Izzy said.
“That’s what the militias are for. While we’re moving offensively, militia divisions from worlds more to the rear will be moved forward to help bolster the defenses. But we’re also counting on our Special Operations forces to be able to move strategically through all this chaos, and bring us actionable intelligence and retard the enemy’s ability to counter-strike.”
“This is insane…has anything like this ever even been tried?” Ben asked.
“Not in human history, no. not on this scale, anyways. We’re talking a combined arms assault on the enemy with more ships and more people than were fielded during the entire Second World War by all sides here, and we’re talking about doing so in the biggest battlefield in history, deep space. The strategic planners back on Earth are pulling their hair out just working out the logistics of it all. Between the active Coalition government forces moving offensively, the Militia units being activated for defensive purposes and shuffled around, and replacements being mobilized and ready to go, we’re talking something on the order of like two hundred million people.”
“And you thought managing a Corps of Marines was hard work.” Westover laughed.
“No shit, Tom.” Praxis said. “Remind me never to run for President.”
“But you’re so popular back home, Praxis.” Danny laughed. Actually, it was quite the opposite. Although Praxis’ Corps was considered one of the best large-scale fighting units in the Coalition armed services, it wasn’t without controversy. Tom Westover would probably be a Division Commander, holding the rank of Major General, if not for several incidents of what the media called “excessive brutality,” Chief among them was an incident that occurred shortly after the establishment of Starbase Leatherneck in which members of 2nd Battalion, 3rd Marines had decapitated the corpses of dead Banor soldiers and impaled on stakes. It had cost Westover his rank for a time, but he earned it back a few months later by personally leading a bayonet charge on Cirvallas IV.
While Praxis’ command got results, the Corps was generally held in less regard than other major commands in the main-stream media. The Coalition Senate even drafted a resolution asking Commandant Williams to remove Praxis as Corps Commander. The reputation of the Corps, along with Praxis and Danny’s roots in the Chicago area, had earned their lounge it’s moniker as the Capone Lounge. The oft-cited reason was that many a “Chicago-style” hit was ordered from this room.
Down below, The Marines and Corpsmen of 1SMU were becoming acquainted with the replacements, and hearing stories of the unit’s various exploits. “One question, Kevin,” Kate asked, “How exactly did you manage to arm that flash bang you hit Gene and I with while hanging from beneath the outcropping of that cliff?”
“The guy I got it from had pulled the pin and taped the spoon down lightly. All I had to do was leverage it enough on a rock to pop the tape, the spoon came off and I lobbed the Flash bang up and right into your lap.” Kevin explained.
“That was some shit to see, too.” Evans said, “I mean, I know we had to do free climbing training before, but to see someone actually do that in combat, much less in the fucking dark, that was nuts.”
“Evans,” Sid said, “In that situation, how else do you get the snipers? I mean, sure you could lob a rifle grenade up there. I know Erica could have made the shot easily. But if you miss, you’ve got two snipers on the high ground, with a gunship to call in.”
“Exactly, Sid.” Kate said. “Those are the kinds of problems we have to handle in this kind of unit. Yes, the rifle grenade over the river is the ‘right’ tactical move, but as she said, what if Erica misses the shot? And you were dealing with two all-universe snipers. If you gave away your team’s position, Gene and I wouldn’t have needed to call in the gunship, we would have just pinned you down and picked you apart one by one, until either our ground team got to you or your gunships smoked us. Kevin’s solution was ballsy, unconventional, and riskier than hell. If he fell anywhere other than where he jumped down, he could have been killed or seriously injured. But he made the climb, and held on with one hand to toss the grenade.”
“Jeesh ladies you make it sound so much cooler than it seemed at the time.” Kevin said, drinking a large glass of beer.
“What, like you weren’t thinking about how fuckin’ tactical badass you looked doing that?” Kate elbowed him.
“No….actually I was thinking, ‘If I fall, I better bust my skull and die quickly, cuz otherwise Clara’s gonna tear me apart for being such a fricking idiot.’”
“It sure as hell was impressive to see.” Grimes said. “And it’s comforting to know that the Marines on this team will go out and do some crazy shit like that for each other. Even on a training mission.”
“That ain’t shit.” Kevin said. “It’s these Corpsmen that’ll amaze you. Especially the little one there.” He pointed at Ashlie, “That girl performed a tracheotomy, CPR and re-inflated a lung, all on one patient, exposed and under fire. You couldn’t have had an easier target, but there she was giving precisely zero kinds of fucks that some furry asshats were trying to burn her ass, she just kept fixing.”
Ashlie blushed. “I do what I gotta do, Bee. Someone’s gotta make sure you guys survive your super-macho stupid bullshit.”
“They do that a lot?” Geoff Mason asked Ashlie.
“All the time, Chief. With these guys, there’s never a dull moment.” Ashlie smiled.
John Roberts looked over and saw Ashlie’s drink was empty, and waved a waiter over to order a refill. “Such manners,” Kate smiled at John, then winked at Ashlie.
“Never let a Corpsman’s drink go dry.” John said. The waiter returned with Ashlie’s drink a moment later. When John handed him his card to pay, he shook his head, “Already taken care of actually, Sergeant. Manager has orders to put all Doc Adams’ drinks on your Colonel’s tab.”
Ashlie blushed again, and the rest of the team laughed. “Say one thing for Colonel Pierce, he pays his debts.”
Kevin said.
“If buying her drinks is his way of paying his ‘debt’,” D. J. said, “Doc you’ll be 80 before you have to pay for another one.”
Ashlie took a sip and shook her head. “He doesn’t need to buy me drinks to pay me back. I would have done the same for any one of you.”
“You HAVE for many of us.” Kevin said, then looked to Geoff, “Chief, She’s set the bar pretty high for Corpsman in this outfit, I hope you can keep up with her.”
“All things considered, Gunny, Ideally Ashlie and I should just sit back and enjoy the show…but I’ll keep up no problem.”
“Good luck, Chief,” Ashlie said smiling, “You’re gonna need it.”
“So,” Sid asked, looking around, “Who’s been with this little mini gun club the longest?”
The established members of the team looked around, amongst each other. “I think Kate has,” Kevin said, “She was here when I reported in.”
“I am now, yes. I’ve been with this team for four years. Kevin, Gene, and Ashlie have all been here for three years. Colonel Pierce assumed command about the same time, too. Everyone else has been here two years or less.” Kate said.
“I was with two other Special Missions Units before I came here,” Sid said, “I spent Two years with 7SMU and a year and a half with 9SMU. When word came down that this team was looking for an XO, my commander over at 9 recommended me, since I was their Operations Officer.”
“Kevin has the most Special Missions experience, I think, among all of us,” Kate said, “Three with us and split six years between 27 and 29.”
“Okay…wait just a second.” Geoff said, “There are 29 Marine Special Missions Units?”
“No,” Grimes said, “The exact number is somewhat classified, and unlike the Navy’s Special Warfare Companies, Marine SMUs are not numbered sequentially. Just from this conversation, we know of at least five special missions’ platoons. I am sure those of you with more experience have also worked with others.”